Neophyte
by fivetail
Summary: Hidan reluctantly takes on a religious apprentice: a reserved, devoted girl willing to go to extreme lengths to gain her teacher's recognition. She is nothing special. He treats her about as well as you'd expect. Hidan/OC. NSFW.
1. Teacher's Pet (Excerpt)

**A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter one. The rest of it is censored.**

To read the rest of this chapter, please visit **please-notice-me-sensei** over at Tumblr.

Because I can't link directly to NSFW content, just look at the Tumblr's sidebar links to find **Neophyte on AO3**.

* * *

Faint rays of afternoon sunlight danced upon the darkened ground beneath his feet, swaying and glimmering silently within the quiet echo of a summer breeze. The gentle, flickering glows were watched carefully by the Shinobi standing within the forest below: a man who was just _waiting_ for his opponent to slip up with her trap and accidentally cast a shadow.

A clever weight shift and a simple flick of the wrist was all it took to catch the girl off-guard; the second swing from the bar of his scythe managed to hit her spot-on, sending his target crashing back-first into a nearby tree. At the moment, she was hunched over herself a few yards away, holding a hand against the ground for stability as she waited a second or two to recover from the folly.

The opportunity she let slip during battle had been an honest mistake, but it was nothing Hidan wouldn't take his rightful advantage of.

Another soft groan pervaded the air. The pain lining across the girl's upper abdomen throbbed once again, making her strain as she looked back over at the man, grinning. "First strike wins, Sensei."

"Like hell it does. Stand the fuck up."

She blinked, her complaisance fading into an expression of vague curiosity.

"I'm sick of letting you waste my fucking time here," Hidan said, folding his arms and looking extremely bored with himself. "I always knew you were weak, but this is just fucking ridiculous."

Sighing, the young woman brushed the back of her hand across her face, wiping a spot of blood away from the corner of her mouth.

"I apologize for my behavior, Hidan-sama," she responded firmly. "I guess I've been...kinda distracted lately."

"Seriously, I don't remember saying I gave a shit. I said get up."

She gave herself another second to regain her equilibrium before obeying the order and rising shakily back to her feet. Of course, Hidan kept a watchful eye on her as she did so.

Even though these pointless _sparring_ matches were more than common during their 'outings' together, they never failed to establish which of the two Shinobi remained the superior fighter. Life's training had done nothing special to prepare the kunoichi for the superior combative skills of this runaway. She could try repeatedly to execute a successful assault, yet rarely have her tactics make the slightest difference in changing the battle's outcome; this in itself was a fact Hidan loved to exploit at every given opportunity.

Still, save for a few empty threats and a couple of harmless scuffs during battle, Hidan never really _tried_ to hurt his student. He may have had no problem treating her harshly, or calling her every conceivable name in the book, or using random outbursts of vulgarity that would make even the steadiest of people flinch, but he never went as far as to honestly, physically _injure_ the girl.

No, he made her do that part all on her own.

Yuni brushed the fresh marks of dirt from her gloved hands, shaking the brown tint from the black and silver cloth. "Hidan-sama, I need to ask you something."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, readily grasping the base of the weapon re-tied around his back. "What's that?"

"Are we friends?"

The disconcerted Jashinist stared askance at the young woman standing in front of him, noticing her silver eyes glaze over with the wonder and fascination expected from a person who felt the need to ask such an irrelevant question...like a four-year-old.

The only reason Hidan even put up with this girl was because she was his latest inductee into Jashinism; unfortunately, she had been the only _willing_ inductee he could find so far. Since she wasn't nearly strong enough to abandon her village without getting tracked down and killed by the resulting ANBU, the Chuunin would vie for an away mission every so often, secretly meeting with her new teacher for a few days at a time to train and discuss new ways to rid the world of the irreligious cads polluting the earth with their existence.

To avoid unnecessary complications, Hidan told his Akatsuki teammate that he had to start taking a couple of days off each month to perform a diversified array of religious ceremonies solo; although it wasn't regarded as 'fiscally ideal' at first, Hidan managed to fully convince Kakuzu into letting him go by using an ancient and powerful mind-controlling technique known as 'bitching one's mouth off'.

Sure, Hidan sometimes surprised himself with the convoluted lengths he was willing to go just to keep his interaction with this girl a secret, but he remained half-interested in the fact that there was _someone_ else on this earth who wasn't interested in going to hell. Yet, even though the little neophyte from Konoha had acted as a more-than-faithful apprentice for the past four months, there _were_ the unexpected instances when her asininity could play her off as someone a quarter of her age.

This instance, for example.

"Remind me..." Hidan started, not taking his suspicious eyes off the girl as he spoke. "Why in the _fuck_ I would want to be friends with someone like you."

Shrugging off her recent injury with indifference, Yuni put a hand on her chin and glanced thoughtfully up at the sky. "Maybe not 'friends', exactly...but we do, I don't know... _like_ each other, don't we?"

"You're fucking kidding me, right? Seriously, just because you _exploited_ my ass and got me dragged into this whole fucking mess, that doesn't mean I have to like you. As a matter of fact, I hate you. With a burning fucking passion." He shrugged. "I'm just waiting for you to screw something up so there's an excuse to kill you and get it the fuck over with."

"Of course, Hidan-sama," she said, nervously pawing at the back of her head. "I-I was just making sure, is all."

"Yeah, well, now you know. The hell's got you so interested all of a sudden, anyway?"

"Nothing! I...if there was anything I could do to change your mind, you know I'd-"

"I seriously doubt it, kid."

"...sorry for bothering you, then."

"Whatever," he sighed irritably, ignoring the look of dejection on his disciple's face.

Alright, alright, so this girl's apprenticeship wasn't exactly something the Akatsuki loyalist had _planned_ on. Yuni was nothing more than a mediocre, seventeen-year-old kunoichi who had lost a battle to him once before, and yet somehow managed to escape death's grasp and find him _again_ three years later. Then, after putting him through all that troublesome, time-wasting _bullshit_ , decides to throw in the towel right when the fight was getting interesting! The persevering jackass even asked him for 'guidance to salvation', so of _course_ Hidan had no choice but to take her under his wing. Jashin wouldn't have liked it if one of his most dedicated servants turned down a heathen's request to be redeemed.

...goddamn it.

His pike must have been blunt that one time, or something.

Nevertheless-even though he wouldn't admit it in a million years-Hidan observed that this girl had proven herself an extremely diligent follower of Jashin so far. She kept true to her word and obeyed his every command without objection. She maintained a steady count by sacrificing the targets of her assassination missions. She performed the wide range of ceremonies to the proverbial _tee_ , no matter how bloody or painful they all turned out to be.

But, most importantly, she always made sure to stay the hell out of her teacher's business.

She knew nothing about him, his partner, or his organization, and _he_...well, he took advantage of that by asking her seemingly-innocent details about her village and reporting them back to Pein. Besides that, their relationship was on a strictly professional need-to-know basis; asking whether or not they were 'friends' was the closest they'd come to a personal conversation in nearly half a year.

Yup.

Hidan had a devoted, gullible, seventeen-year-old virgin waiting on him hand and foot.

Who would do absolutely anything he asked.

Without question.

Hidan's forgotten ire faded into oblivion as found himself slipping into a momentary reverie, the devious potentials already springing to mind.

' _Oh,_ _fuck_ _._ '

...ha, ha.

Thank you, God.

"Well, if you're so fucking desperate," he said, rolling his eyes and tilting his head restlessly to the side, "there's this one...part of your training you haven't gone through yet, and I'd _really_ like it if we got that shit out of the way. You know, before we got on to the more complicated...stuff."

"Really?" Yuni queried, looking strangely hopeful. "And you'll tell me what it is?"

"Sure, I'll tell you. Seriously, it's not a big deal or anything...just a favor."

Before Yuni had a chance to respond, Hidan swiftly withdrew his scythe and charged towards her, shoving the back handle forward and pressing the metallic bar hard against her throat. He held his student high up against the side of the tree, using nothing more than a single hand to wield the enormous weapon now pinning her to the bark.

"You don't have a problem with _favors_ , do you?"

She clenched onto either side of the intruding pole and focused all of her remaining strength, relieving the pressure on her neck just enough to allow herself to speak.

"S-since when do I ever?" she choked out, winking at him and forcing a smile. "I'm here to be trained, remember? If it'll help my progression...just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

' _Of course you will, kid._ ' He revealed a smirk. ' _That's what you're here for._ '

But their fight wasn't over just yet.

The individual he had held to the tree disappeared in a large billow of smoke, replacing its own form with a large tree branch. Hidan wheeled around, predicting the assault rushing in from behind him and clashing the suddenly encroaching blade against his own. Before he was given the opportunity to serve a punishing counter-attack, an extraordinarily shrill pain shot through his body as he felt something sharp wrench itself into the base of his spine. The clone he was facing disappeared in yet another cloud, and it quickly became obvious that the wooden 'replacement' had been the kunoichi all along.

Shit.

She was getting good.

Usually, Yuni was an extremely friendly, extremely naive, extremely _obedient_ girl who was respectful to those she looked up to, and who _never_ dared to risk upsetting anyone by disobeying a direct order. She always tried her hardest to prove her skills were improving under her new teacher's instruction, and fighting was the only time she could ever get his attention.

Sparring was the only instance she ever dared to lay a finger on him.

To this day, the young woman strived to do everything in her power to show Hidan that her devotion had never faltered and will never change; no matter what he said or how he treated her, she'd always value his guidance above and beyond anyone else's. As for this 'favor' he wanted, whatever it was...he had already gone through the trouble of teaching her during the course of their stays together; the least she could do was perform whatever menial task he needed of her.

Because, as his apprentice, she was there to serve him.

Nothing more.

Standing on her toes to take on his height, Yuni wrapped an arm around Hidan's chest, pulling him backwards onto the knife so that his ear and her mouth were made level. "You know I'd do anything for you, Sensei."

"You slimy little prick..." he barked, cringing. "I swear to God, I'm making the next thirty seconds as painful for you as humanly fucking possible."

She twisted the kunai in an inch or two further before violently ripping it out of her master's body.

"'Humanly'?" she whispered, a mischievous grin curling the edge of her lip. "Come now, Hidan-sama, we both know you can do better than that."

* * *

' _Darn it, why haven't these healed yet?'_

 _The brunette in the bar stool shifted uncomfortably, attempting to ease the stinging pains manifesting themselves within her back. The wounds caused from her last self-flagellation had been inflicted during a penance ritual two nights ago, the night before she left her village to resume training with Hidan. Yuni wasn't a medic-nin, nor could she heal at the alarmingly fast rate her teacher did, but two days should have been more than enough to recover from something as minor as a sound lashing._

 _Regardless, the girl sighed, glancing up at the clock on the wall just in time to mark the second hour she'd been sitting here in wait._

 _It had taken an entire half a day just to reach the next town, and she was sure she wasn't the only one praying to Jashin that tonight was going to prove worth the walk._

 _To pass the time, the kunoichi even denied her better judgment and welcomed a conversation with a masked individual at the far end of her table. A heavy black overcoat was draped over the man's massive shoulders, the mark across his hitai-ate's plate branding him a runaway Falls-nin. Yuni became less and less apprehensive towards the mysterious stranger as their casual dialogue continued, realizing that if someone with his immense Chakra levels had wanted to kill her, he would've made his intentions known a long time ago._

 _They had nothing more than a well-mannered discussion that ended with a abrupt goodbye, followed by him dropping a few coins onto the table to pay for his untouched drink before he made his departure._

' _Sir', she had called him._

 _She never asked him his name._

 _After retrieving the payment the second Shinobi had left behind, the barkeep behind the counter strolled over to idle in front of the first; he polished a long, white bottle of sake as he eyed the girl's features with suspicion, attempting to calculate her age on sight._

" _Just water for me, thanks."_

" _Yeah, obviously."_

 _She gave the bartender a glance as he set the small cup of clear liquid down in front of her._

 _Her vexation receding almost as quickly as it came, the kunoichi folded her arms upon the wooden countertop and picked up the porcelain glass with her left hand, swirling around its contents before finally raising it to her mouth._

 _She smirked into the cup as she heard the customer behind her giggle shyly._

' _About time.'_

 _By now, that woman was probably bringing a softly closed hand to her lips; she'd turn away and blush discreetly while the man in front of her fondled at the length of her hair, breathing lines of harmless, beguiling temptation into her ear. His hand would then move, slowly but surely, to brush across the surface of her wrist, the one she rested so unintentionally, so welcomingly upon the tabletop. Her red-stained lips would part unwittingly at the contact, eliciting nothing more than an irresistibly charming smirk from her handsome courtier._

 _As always, Yuni kept her back turned and stayed the hell out of her teacher's business._

 _The apprentice would label generally anyone 'suitable' as an immolation to Jashin, with rival Shinobi and mission objectives being her most common targets of practice. But her teacher...no, her teacher wasn't as blatantly arbitrary as she was. Hidan would give a quick scan of the room and become transfixed on a single individual._

 _Whomever he decided on would die that very night._

 _Despite Hidan's naturally seductive charm, his apprentice could sense the bloodlust building in his light red eyes, ready and willing to escape whatever shithole they were stuck in and claim the crimson reward hiding beneath the unsuspecting victim's skin._

 _Hidan always managed to sweet-talk his way into getting his sacrifices._

" _It's almost as if God put me on this earth...for the sole purpose of finding you."_

 _It was a closing line that had been rehearsed in front of countless other women, countless times before._

 _Yuni glanced over her shoulder as she heard the chairs behind her shuffle and scrape loudly against the hardwood floors of the tavern. Rising from the table, Hidan took the stranger's hand into his own and charged swiftly towards the exit, his newfound prey skipping off and tittering behind him. The lady was probably just excited towards the prospect of having someone take her out of public's eye and retreat to a hidden place-like his hotel room-to 'talk'._

 _But he was eager for a completely unrelated reason._

" _Looks like someone's getting lucky tonight, eh?" the bartender leered, noticing the Leaf-nin as she watched the two adults leave the area._

 _Yuni turned back and took another wordless sip of her drink._

 _That wasn't luck._

 _That was skill._

* * *

When Yuni first joined the religion of Jashin, she didn't have the slightest clue what 'celibates' did differently than 'normal' people. Hidan simply told her that it was the presence of a strict promise made to God, and that any follower who broke that vow would burn in the depths of hell for all eternity (the heathen). Although she still didn't understand the finer points of what such a responsibility entailed, the priest assured that no bastard alive would get their fucking hands on her as long as he was around.

Yuni just kept her mouth shut from that point on.

She knew she swore an oath the day she became a Jashinist, vowing to follow every phase of her training under penalty of death, to practice any given step until the execution was flawless.

Whatever he asked of her wasn't a commitment, it was an obligation.

Hidan returned to the rented inn room later on into the night, enveloped by a wistful air of unease as he dropped his scythe and slammed the door behind him. He always felt a vague sense of restlessness about himself whenever he got back from these ceremonies, but as soon as his unsettled gaze fell upon his student (sitting so fucking _conveniently_ on the bed, too), he remembered the fortunate fact that, for the next few days, it would be _her_ waiting in this room, rather than his usual teammate.

To be honest, these loud, bloody, painful rituals had the tendency to leave the man so incredibly _turned on_ at times, he rarely knew what to do with himself by the time he got back...at least, the things which normally came to mind couldn't be done with Kakuzu listening in three feet away.

Yuni didn't even seem to notice Hidan as he stepped across the room and stood to tower over her unmoving figure.

"You. Knees. Now."

* * *

 **A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter one. The rest of it is censored.**

To read the rest of this chapter, please visit **please-notice-me-sensei** over at Tumblr.

Because I can't link directly to NSFW content, just look at the Tumblr's sidebar links to find **Neophyte on AO3**.


	2. Teacher's Pet (Excerpt 2)

**A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter one. The rest of it is censored.**

To read the rest of this chapter, please visit **please-notice-me-sensei** over at Tumblr.

Because I can't link directly to NSFW content, just look at the Tumblr's sidebar links to find **Neophyte on AO3**.

* * *

 _Hidan had used the Fifth Ceremony yesterday evening, yet another elaborate ritual in dealing with the proper preparation and disposal of a sacrifice. It was unquestionably the most complicated and detailed rite listed within the Volumes, as the ceremony itself was divided into several parts, taking an entire three days and nights of progress before the light of a successful conclusion._

 _Of course, Hidan never did anything even vaguely lascivious with any of these random women; performing anything of the sort during a ritual would contradict his entire purpose and be disrespectful to Jashin. He simply enjoyed pain. He enjoyed seeing others in pain. Because of this, whenever circumstances allowed, Hidan liked elongating his methods to get the most out of the process._

 _Whenever time was on his side, he'd take it._

 _Despite the multiple warnings he gave, his assistant's curiosity eventually lured her to visit the hidden corridor across the hall early the following afternoon._

 _Glancing around the area to make sure she was alone, she snuck her way towards the adjacent room until she came face-to-face with a Chakra-sealed white door. Yuni carefully flattened a palm against the surface, emitting just enough of her own power to counter the force holding the door shut._

 _At the end of the room, she spotted her._

 _It was another young woman, a little older than herself, kneeling against the floor by the far wall, hands and ankles chained behind her to the radiator affixed at the back of the windowless room._

 _The woman's head shot up, blue eyes widening fearfully at the sound of the opening door._

 _The white cloth gag tied around her mouth was stained with the gentle pink mixture of tears and blood. Strands of her long, wavy hair were unkempt and mislain, contrary to the well-groomed braid which formerly kept the dark azure locks in place. Her once-lively cerulean eyes were almost unrecognizable behind the dried lines of distressed tears running down either cheek; her face, still bloodstained from the ceremonial incisions decorating the skin under her eyes._

' _Made with a kunai tip, no doubt.'_

 _Hidan was always at his most remarkable whenever he held a blade in his hands._

 _A suddenly thankful expression filled the other woman's eyes. She smiled and laughed beneath her mask whilst she struggled against her binds, encouraging the Shinobi standing before her to step forth and set her free._

 _Yuni's eyes glazed over with an envious rage as she observed the intricate preparations Hidan had made for the body._

 _These people he chose, they were always these tall, impressive, gorgeous women with striking features and perfect hair, much more attractive than she would ever prove to be. No matter what she tried, she knew that her master never saw her as anything more than a useless burden, and rightfully so. She had nothing of value to offer him. He was waiting for an excuse to get rid of her, because he hated her, he thought she was weak. No matter how many people she killed or how many missions she completed, no matter how many rituals she performed or the impressive social statuses of those she murdered, she'd always be seen as weak in his eyes._

 _Maybe that's why he hadn't killed her yet._

 _Perhaps he didn't think her worthy enough for sacrifice._

 _Upon realizing that her potential savior hadn't yet rushed to save her, the sounds of the victim's half-hearted struggles faded into the silence, leaving nothing but an exchanged glower and a still silhouette standing at the doorway._

" _You should feel honored," the kunoichi whispered, sounding resentful as she backed away and placed a hand on the corner of the door. "Hidan-sama doesn't perform this ritual on just anyone."_

 _The woman's eyes widened once again as light rushed from the room and the sliding door finally clicked shut._

* * *

 **A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter one. The rest of it is censored.**

To read the rest of this chapter, please visit **please-notice-me-sensei** over at Tumblr.

Because I can't link directly to NSFW content, just look at the Tumblr's sidebar links to find **Neophyte on AO3**.


	3. Anniversary (Excerpt)

**A/N: This is the majority of chapter two. The rest of it is censored.**

To read the rest of this chapter, please visit **please-notice-me-sensei** over at Tumblr.

Because I can't link directly to NSFW content, just look at the Tumblr's sidebar links to find **Neophyte on AO3**.

* * *

Liquid red poured from the corners of Hidan's mouth, the rivers of dark scarlet gushing through his clenched teeth. His pitch-black hands choked a sleek length of steel and shoved it further through himself, piercing through layers of muscle and organ and fat— _deeper, deeper, deeper_ —until it jabbed the inside of his back and his skin gave way to the point of the blade.

His nameless opponent clutched at his own chest and coughed up blood.

Hidan's eyes rolled to the back of his head. "So _f-fucking_ fantastic."

A few yards away, a young woman faced off with another mercenary at the scene. The short metal bar she carried sported a curved blade at one end, and a long, weighted chain affixed at the other. Her enemy was fast, but she was faster: a side-step and a flick of the wrist was all it took to slide the edge of her kusarigama across his abdomen.

She yanked her weapon from his body. Blood sprayed across her arms.

The last of the group tried to get away, but she gave chase, her cloak whipping behind her. The weight at the end of her weapon's chain tore through the air. A sharp _clang_ echoed with his kunai's deflection.

She twitched her fingers.

The weight maneuvered with Chakra lines she'd attached to it; its pathway spiraled backwards and wrapped the chain around her opponent's arm.

A swift series of hand seals followed.

" _Raiton: Tsukikage!_ "

Flashes of lightning shot down the Chakra lines, and the man's body was immediately wracked with violent convulsions. His arms jerked at his sides. His head twitched at his shoulder. Sick, off-white foam bubbled from his lips as he stared into depths of nothing with the seizure-whites of his eyes.

Yanking the chain around his forearm, she rushed forward to catch him with her blade.

He was dead before the final blows, but she'd double-tap, just to make sure.

Her nerves only settled after her opponent's body slumped to the ground. Deep, calming breaths filled the hollow of her chest, replacing warm rushes of adrenaline with cool swells of air. Blood rolled down her arms and soaked into the thick of her gloves. She doesn't notice the grin on her face until it fades.

A small part of her hoped her teacher had seen.

Said part of her died when she noticed Hidan still enveloped in his own ecstasy, the black-and-white patterns of his ritual vanishing from his skin like veins of ink bleeding in reverse.

He withdrew the pike from his body and cackled like a madman.

Yuni rubbed her temple, smearing the dead stranger's blood across her forehead in the process. "That cloak of yours gets us into so much trouble, Hidan-sama."

With a loud snort, Hidan gathered the blood pooling at the back of his throat, and spit it aside. "You knew what you were getting into when you signed on with me, kid. Suck it up."

"But why do you have such a high bounty on your head, anyway? What kind of organization are you even a _part_ of?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, seriously." Still inside his Circle, he seated himself on the ground. "And how about a fucking 'thank you'? I just served you fresh sacrifices on a silver platter. Perform your ritual and be grateful, for fuck's sake."

"Not yet."

"Why the hell not?"

Yuni knelt down and lifted her ex-opponent's half-charred, half-flayed corpse into a fireman's carry.

"Be—because," she strained. "I have a new target."

Hidan lifted an eyebrow. "Who?"

"My village has been on a certain Ambassador's tail for months now. He's been convicted of enough war crimes to warrant a kill-on-sight order, and they think he might be hiding somewhere in this area."

She carried the body to another corpse, dropping one on top of the other with a _thud_. The third body she went for was partially disemboweled. She carried it bridal-style to prevent spillage.

"See these symbols on their sleeves?" She swung the body so its arm dangled in front of her; its exposed intestines squished against the inside of her elbow. "They're his agents, which means I'm close. My team was only sent down here to investigate some rumors, but if I can take care of this on my own? They might just make me a Jounin."

Guts poking unceremoniously out of her cargo's split abdomen, Yuni smiled at Hidan, searching for the slightest bit of praise.

"…is _that_ why I had to meet you outside this shithole excuse of a town?"

She deflated.

"Ah, yeah, that's why." She tossed the body on top of the others. "Sorry about the inconvenience."

Finally, Yuni grabbed the arm of the mercenary Hidan impaled by proxy. She dragged it over to the pile, too.

Hidan turned up his nose. "What are you _doing_ with those, you freak? Just leave 'em to rot."

"It's hard to complete a stealth mission if I'm leaving a trail of bodies behind me. Bodies belonging to employees of my target, no less."

"Ugh, do whatever you want. Never understood how people can be so nonchalant about handling corpses, it's fucking disgusting."

"I just want my promotion."

"Screw promotions. It's easier to dedicate your life to Jashin-sama without a village tying you down with hierarchical bullshit."

"Not all of us are strong enough to become runaways, Sensei."

"You want some advice on getting stronger? Stop being so fucking slow. Anyone who fights you for more than five seconds will be able to map your movements, seriously."

"Understood. But you really don't need to worry about me." She offered another smile, giving a subtle nudge to the mercenaries she killed on her own. "I can fend for myself pretty well, you know."

"Tell that to the scar through your chest."

She froze.

Taking another deep breath, she chose her next words with care.

"That was a long time ago," she said. "I'm stronger than you give me credit for."

"Sure you are." He stretched his arms above his head. "What's with this lightning shit all of a sudden, anyway? I didn't know you had training with your affinity."

Standing near the stack of bodies, Yuni tied Chakra lines around the loops of a few kunai. "With all due respect, Sensei, there are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"With all due respect, _kid_ , I'm sure there ain't a whole lot to know. You're an open book, seriously."

"Is that so?"

"Damn straight."

"Then what's my family name?"

He gaped for a moment. "Well then, smartass, what's _mine_?"

She laughed. "I have no idea."

One by one, Yuni threw the handful of kunai around the corpse pile, forming a circle in the ground.

Hidan didn't stick around long enough to find out what she was doing.

"Whatever," he muttered, adjusting the pike in his chest so he could lie down flat on his back. "Fucking weirdo."

Away from Hidan's line of sight, Yuni slid her fingers down her chest, absently touching the uneven scars beneath the fabric of her dress as if to make sure they were still there.

He was already in a trance when she performed her hand seals.

* * *

The sky was black when he woke. The taste of metal stained his tongue while dried blood made the sides of his mouth feel taut. His impalement wound pulsed with the familiar dull, aching soreness of his body attempting to repair itself, seeing as the metal spike still lodged his chest made the healing process difficult.

Through the flood of fresh sensations, however, one thing stood out.

"…why do I smell barbeque?"

As expected, his apprentice was kneeling by his side.

"Oh, you're awake!" she smiled, leaning over him. Her grey eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Sorry about the smell. I needed to get rid of the bodies."

"…so you fucking _barbequed_ them?"

"Kinda?" She scratched her cheek. "I used one of my lightning Jutsu to form a small field until they were mostly disintegrated, then I buried the remains. It creates less smoke and draws less attention. Difficult smell to get out of your hair, though."

"Kid, that's _seriously_ fucked up." He leaned up and yanked the pike from his body, wincing as blood poured from the wound. "How many times have you done this, exactly?"

Yuni opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again.

She held her chin and looked into the distance as she mouthed numbers under her breath.

"Never mind, I don't wanna know." Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a small bag and tossed it at her. "You need a fucking shower, you smell like burnt asshole and it's gross as hell."

Yuni caught the package. It was a clear plastic bag, filled with miniature spheres of sugar candy dyed various shades of blue and green. A thin silk rope tied the bag closed. On the front of the package were tiny stickers of branded cartoon characters. It was adorable.

(She was scared.)

"…um."

"You said you liked them once."

"I do! Konpeito's my favourite."

" _Tch_ , so what's with the face?"

"N—nothing, this is just…sweet."

"No shit, it's fucking candy."

Her ears went red as she untied the bag. "I meant it was very kind of you to remember something like that. Thank you."

"Oh." For a split-second, he looked sheepish. "Yeah. You're welcome."

Since her hands were dirty, Yuni tipped the open bag into her mouth.

Leaning on an arm, Hidan examined the forest clearing, but found no sign of burnings or burials. He didn't know if it was the influence of her career or her dedication to their religion that was desensitizing her to the gore of her kills, but she'd changed since they first met. During her baptism, she could barely watch him press kunai against her skin without vomiting out of nervousness—now, she was snacking carefree after electrocuting several corpses to dust and bone. The smell of her had changed, gradually, from earth and laundered clothing to blood and candy.

A piece of konpeito fell into the crook of her elbow, getting stuck in the press of blood her enemy's guts left on her skin.

Hers wasn't a scent he wanted lodged in his memory, but he couldn't tear himself away from it.

"Kid, I need to talk to you about something."

Her mouth was already full of sweets. "Hrm?"

"…will you stop stuffing your face for three fucking seconds?

She nodded.

She then tried not to make noise by chewing _really slowly_.

"Fucking swallow, already!"

Looking incredulous, Yuni pushed the candy to one side of her mouth, making her cheek stick out. "Jeez, Sensei-you really got a thing for swallowing, don't you?"

He reached over for his weapon and knocked the back of his scythe against the top of her head. She spit-sprayed a rainbow of candy everywhere.

"Alright, already-jeez!" She rubbed her head. "I'm listening!"

"It's been a year since you've been baptized," he said, dropping his scythe. He raised his hands lazily. " _Omedetou_."

"Wait…" she whispered, glancing down at the bag in her hands. Her eyes grew wide. "Was I supposed to get you something, too?"

"No, I just thought I'd do something nice for you. Seriously, I'm such a thoughtful teacher, aren't I?"

(Her laughter was half-hearted.)

"The point is we've been at this for a while. Sooo…" He made a rolling hand gesture. "I want you to help me out with more advanced rituals from now on."

" _Really_?" Still kneeling, she shuffled closer to him. "You mean like the Ceremony of Triads? Or Perdition's Observance? No, wait, I've actually been really curious about how I'm supposed to interpret the ritual for Chapter 17, Passage 62—like, when it mentions 'embracing duality of evisceration,' does that mean two at once, or is it a more philosophical take on the abstraction of—"

"I was thinking more along the lines of The Seventh Rite."

"I'm surprised you have that much faith in me," she laughed, uneasy, "but I'll do my best! We'll need a tribute to Jashin-sama, though. Did you have someone in mind?"

The following silence built an invisible wall between them, another brick stacking on brick with each passing second.

Yuni blanched, every bit of her excitement shriveling as if had caught fire.

She was the first to break eye contact. "I'm not sure I can do that, Hidan-sama."

Clicking his tongue, he heaved an exaggerated sigh and folded his arms. "And why the fuck not? The biggest obstacle is keeping the tribute alive long enough to finish all three stages. You and I won't have that problem."

"Shouldn't I _practice_ before doing something like that with you?"

"I've seen you do crazy shit to people without batting an eye, what makes this any different?"

"What's different is that they're not _you_ ," she said firmly. "I'm not praying to Jashin-sama for a successful kill, this time—I'm performing a full-blown _Rite_ for Him. If I do something wrong, or mess something up, wouldn't the consequences be—"

"I strongly doubt even you could fuck it up that badly."

"But I don't have a lot of experience with… _you know_ …" She unknowingly mirrored his hand-rolling gesture. " _That_ kind of stuff. There's an art to those techniques, Hidan-sama, the discipline necessary for executing Rites is more within your field of expertise, I wouldn't even know where to—"

" _Yuni-chaaaaaaaaan_." He leaned forward and rested his chin on top of her head. "I need another Jashinist for this. Shut up, stop worrying, and help out your Sensei. Alright?"

For the second time that evening, Yuni froze.

Her forehead rested against his neck as the beads of his rosary kissed her cheek. When he spoke, his words rumbled in his throat, and the hum of his voice surfaced against her skin. Her breaths rolled down his chest and clouded the metal of his pendant; his scent was familiar, and comforting, laced with the heavy edge of copper from the half-open wound still gaping through his chest.

He was so close.

' _One of the rare times he actually uses my name, and it's over something like this?_ '

(So _close._ )

"…kid?"

His blood was dripping on her lap. Her blood was rushing to her head.

Trembling against her will, she found herself reeling when he pulled away.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" he asked, raising a brow at her. "You look like a fucking radish."

"I'll study the text," she said. She covered her reddening face with both hands. "I-I'll study the text and I'll figure something out."

Yuni squeezed an eye shut as Hidan ruffled a heavy hand through her hair.

"Now _that's_ what I wanna fucking hear."

His nose always wrinkled when he grinned.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she let it go.

* * *

After the conclusion of one of his monthly religious pilgrimages, Hidan informed the rest of the Akatsuki that he had discovered a source: an insider from Konoha who could provide him with valuable information about the village, such as its current political climate, various infiltration techniques, and the general whereabouts of its Jinchuuriki. All it took was for Hidan and his informant to meet face-to-face, and alone.

Pein allowed Hidan to continue gathering, a decision only reinforced when every bit of information Hidan brought back appeared to check out perfectly.

Therefore, for a few days every month or so, Hidan would catch a ride with Deidara to a different meeting place. Kakuzu spent the majority of his partner's absence collecting bounties in peace. Not having to stop for rituals after every battle sped up the process, but not having to hear Hidan complain was just a bonus.

Yet, Hidan was not a man known for his subtlety, let alone for his ability to gather information. Hidan refused to disclose the identity of a source who gave away confidential information for free—to say Kakuzu was suspicious was an understatement.

Thankfully, Pein agreed.

Deidara was sure to return with coordinates of where Hidan's so-called 'pilgrimages' took him. Only a few trips were needed to cross-reference Hidan's movements with other tracked patterns at Kakuzu's disposal, revealing Hidan's travels lined up with reports of recent Leaf-nin activity. Contrary to what Kakuzu first thought, Hidan's source wasn't some sleazy information salesman or scared-shitless civilian—they were a full-fledged Konoha Shinobi.

No one in this world gained information without offering something of equal value in return.

What kind of price was Hidan paying?

Hidan had been acting smug all damned month, even moreso than usual. Things that usually pissed him off, like the missions Pein assigned and Kakuzu's sarcastic remarks about Hidan's time-consuming ceremonies, didn't irk the man as much as they used to. When asked what had him so upbeat all of a sudden, Hidan brushed the question off with a rehearsed line about finding 'divine inspiration' on his last trip, and how they, being heathens and all, had no idea what they were missing out on.

"Your last trip took twice as long as you estimated," Kakuzu muttered from behind his book. "It put a setback in Pein's timeline."

"Like that bastard gives a shit," Hidan scoffed, shrugging his cloak on. "Seriously, feed him something like Konoha's bi-seasonal guard rotation schedule and he forgets anything ever happened."

"...you managed to get that?"

"I told you assholes my source was legit. Seriously, it seems like the only support I even get around here is from Pinhead. You know, you're a really shitty teammate, Kakuzu."

"We have responsibilities that need tending to. I can't afford to have you disappear for five days without warning."

"Relax, old man. I'm only going to be gone for four this time, seriously."

"Three. And if you're late again, I'll retrieve you myself."

"Awww, Kakuzu. If you missed me so much, why didn't you just say so? I'm touched, seriously."

Kakuzu glanced up from his book. The intensity of his glare would have killed a more mortal man.

Hidan held his hands up in a pacifying manner as he headed for the door. "I'm kidding, lighten up. Can you give me an earful about this shit when I get back? I'm already running late."

"Hidan."

"Yeah?"

After not receiving a response, Hidan turned around.

"Well, what is it?"

As Kakuzu continued reading, the corner of his mask wrinkled in what Hidan could have _sworn_ was a smirk.

"Have fun."

Hidan had to shake off the shiver down his spine.

"More than you'll ever know," he drawled, walking out and shutting the door behind him. "Creepy son of a…"

 _Click_.

* * *

The air of the inn room was thick with the scent of soap and the warmth of steam.

Yuni sat at the edge of one of the futons, the bottom of her feet sticking to the hardwood floor. She'd changed into more casual clothes after her shower: a conservative, kimono-style blouse with a thick sash around the waist, paired with a form-fitting skirt that went just past her knees. All different shades of black, of course. No need for the clean-up to be more of a hassle than necessary.

"Do you have the prayer memorized?" Hidan shouted from the bathroom.

She perked up. "Y-yes, Sensei!"

Her fists clenched at her skirt while he continued his shower.

' _Why does this feel like that kind of first time all of a sudden?_'

This wasn't the first time they'd shared a room, but that's how these things started, right? Each person takes a shower after renting a private suite. Then the guy saunters out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, and he seduces the girl, asking a whole bunch of careful, romantic questions along the way, like 'is this okay?' and 'can I touch you here?' and 'does it feel good?'. Of course, the only points of reference Yuni had were from the love interests buried in the dirty stories at the back of the bookstore. Hidan wasn't nearly as gentle as the men in those tales. She wondered what words he'd use if he had the chance.

The possibilities made her go red.

It's not like she _hadn't_ thought about him that way before. Several months ago, he'd started entrusting her with a very intimate favour, something they'd revisited once or twice between then and now—and still, every session would leave her aching in places she had to force out of her thoughts. Even now, just remembering the look on his face when she was between his legs stirred something weird and warm inside her stomach.

She buried her face in her hands. This definitely wasn't the time to think about that.

Sexual acts _themselves_ weren't forbidden by Jashin—what was prohibited was any form of intercourse that lead to procreation, since the act contradicted the religion's primary philosophy of total destruction. Pregnancy was considered the ultimate blasphemy: it was a necessary evil that served as a constant reminder of how the sins of man and his only means of survival would forever separate heaven and earth. Over time, however, restrictions on 'traditional' intercourse evolved into a broader ban on 'any form of penetration.'

In short, girls who liked girls must have had it easy.

"Sensei, why couldn't you have been a girl?" she mumbled into her hands.

"Pretty sure tits would get in the way of being shirtless."

She jumped. Hidan was towering over her, wearing nothing but a pair of loose, black pants. A towel hung over his shoulder. His hair was still damp.

Yuni gaped at him, blushing.

He knocked her on the head with his scythe.

"Stop imagining me with tits."

"I wasn't!" she lied. "Jeez—how do you draw that weapon so _fast_?"

"Unfaltering dedication to Jashin-sama gives me a speed bonus. Seriously, didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to stare?"

"Nah, my mother's dead."

"Yours and half the country's, kid—I ain't weeping for you, seriously."

She shrugged. "You _did_ mention I was slow in fights, though. Does that mean my dedication to Jashin-sama isn't unfaltering enough?"

Hidan put a hand on his shoulder and rolled his arm. "We're about see that, aren't we?"

A light, anxious blush spread across Yuni's face while he continued stretching in preparation.

' _Don't think about his hands in your hair._ '

He raised his arms above his head and the muscles in his back grew taut.

' _Don't think about him pushing his hips against you._ '

His pants slipped to reveal the top of his waist, showing just a little skin more than they should.

' _Don't think about the noise he makes when he finishes._ '

Hidan's head lulled to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Ready?"

She swallowed hard, trying to skirt the sensation ever-rising in the pit of her stomach. "Should we have a codeword?"

"…a codeword? What for?"

"In case I do something I'm not supposed to. In case I go too far."

He folded his arms. "You're really getting cocky, aren't you?"

"I didn't mean to sound arrogant, Sensei."

"No, no, I like it."

"Oh."

"Let's keep it simple. 'Stop' means stop, and it's the only word that does. Got it?"

"Understood."

"Now." Hidan stepped to stand in the middle of the room. He tossed his towel in her face. "Show me what you've learned."

She folded the towel and placed it aside before getting to her feet.

Yuni had an arsenal prepped in the storage pouches tied around her waist—kunai, senbon, shuriken, tags of all kinds—but she was beginning to question her decision to not plan for anything in particular. If she were to structure the Rite too carefully, she thought, he'd be able to tell. Her movements would be too methodical. Too lifeless. Too boring. The proof of her conviction had to be more spontaneous than that.

She held his hand, and pulled out a kunai.

She decided she would have to feel him out—step by step, second by second—and follow wherever his pulse guided her.

Just she did during like her last training.

The sharp edge of her metal drew gently across his wrist. Blood bubbled through the slice, sending droplets down his forearm.

"Seriously?" he muttered. "I've had papercuts worse than this."

She winced.

There were two rules she was asked to abide by out of consideration for the nature of his healing: don't sever anything completely off, and don't take anything completely out. He left her in charge of preparing him as a tribute to Jashin—yet, as dedicated as she tried to be, she couldn't shake her hesitance to cause him pain. Her thoughts offered reassurance, but her hands wouldn't listen. Her fingers were already trembling.

Bracing herself for disapproval, Yuni glanced up.

He wasn't even looking at her.

Hidan stared aimlessly into the distance, his bright eyes half-lidded.

The corner of Yuni's eye twitched.

He was _daydreaming_.

He wasn't insulted, he was _bored_.

All at once, her focus snapped into place.

Her hands didn't shake when she used the point of her kunai to tip his cheek in her direction.

"Sensei," she started, slowly, "please keep your eyes on me."

* * *

 **A/N: This is the majority of chapter two. The rest of it is censored.**

To read the rest of this chapter, please visit **please-notice-me-sensei** over at Tumblr.

Because I can't link directly to NSFW content, just look at the Tumblr's sidebar links to find **Neophyte on AO3**.


	4. Bounty

**This is not an excerpt.**

To read the rest of the previous chapters, please visit please-notice-me-sensei at Tumblr. On the sidebar, there will be a link to the full story on A03.

Read, rate, review!

* * *

Kakuzu donned a different overcoat to ensure his colours wouldn't be recognized in the area, a worry his teammate across the bar didn't seem to pay much attention to.

The obnoxious giggles of his partner's most recent target sent prickles of aggravation through Kakuzu's nerves. Far be it from him to judge how Hidan spent his time with the women he paid for, but the fact his teammate could turn his charm on and off at will was a neverending source of ire.

Hidan could've been perfectly pleasant company, he just chose not to be.

Still unnoticed by his teammate, Kakuzu kept his arms folded as he glanced at the person seated in the stool beside him.

When Hidan mentioned he'd located someone from Konoha willing to share insider information, Kakuzu assumed the source was, at best, some random civilian Hidan kept locked away somewhere and tortured Konoha's vulnerabilities out of. Instead, here sat an unassuming young woman, using a weak genjutsu to change the village marker on the hitai-ate tied around her waist. She was hunched slightly over the bartop, making awkward little shifts every so often to try and get comfortable. The way she moved made it obvious her back was injured. Maybe Hidan tortured her, after all.

Masked, cloaked missing-nin were more than commonplace in this area, which made a disguised Leaf-nin's presence here even more suspicious.

Masked, cloaked missing-nin didn't usually take too kindly to an unmarked Konoha plate.

The shot of sake placed in front of Kakuzu remained untouched.

The girl nursed her cup of water, her small hands clasped around the porcelain.

"…I'm not for sale, sir."

"Don't flatter yourself, I have no intention of soliciting you," he muttered.

"Aw, why not?" she asked, voice laden with false disappointment.

"I prefer my women of age."

"You'd only be four months early, no need to make me feel like a little kid."

"You can never be too careful, child. Konoha Shinobi seem to be getting younger by the year."

She straightened her back, in spite of the pain it caused her. The rough tone of his voice made it clear denial would be futile.

"Ah, you've seen right through me," she laughed under her breath. "Genjutsu was never my strong point."

"Enough to fool an untrained eye. I didn't realize they still sent Leaf-nin this far northwest. Iwa territory is hostile for your kind right now, is it not?"

"It is," she whispered, "hence the genjutsu."

"I see."

"You won't tattle on me, will you?"

She looked up at him with smiling silver eyes. He wanted to break her neck.

Met by his silence, she turned her smile back into herself, idly drumming her fingertips along the sides of her cup.

"Is there something you needed from me, sir?"

He glared at her, unblinking, until her heart rate spiked and a light sheen of sweat made the sides of her neck gleam.

"You tell me."

"…would you believe me if I said I'm not here on a mission?"

"Why else would you be here?"

She lowered her head. "I'm waiting on someone."

"A friend of yours?"

She smiled, solemn. "He'd hate it if I called him that."

He kept his eyes trained on her. She didn't meet his gaze again.

As much of a fool Hidan was to believe his source wouldn't be investigated, Kakuzu was having trouble flipping through his rolodex of possible reasons she would leak information. Didn't someone of her rank recognize the Akatsuki's colors when she saw them? Did her and Hidan cross paths one day and strike some sort of deal? Could Hidan have been acting as a double agent for another village in exchange for immunity from his crimes—a triple agent, even, playing both sides of the field?

Did he control his intelligence like he did his charm?

Maybe he just _chooses_ to be an idiot.

Kakuzu wrinkled his nose at the thought. Wishful thinking, indeed.

Surreptitious, information-garnering endeavors had never been one of Hidan's interests, but regardless of his reasons, this girl's usefulness depended on Hidan taking time away from his regular duties to the Akatsuki. She was a distraction to their operation. Kakuzu had every intention of removing said distraction if he decided her cost outweighed her benefits.

He glanced back at his neighbor as she released a quiet, shaky sigh and brushed the length of her hair behind her. Her cloak shifted, exposing a rosary tied around one of her sidestraps.

The circular metal pendant glinted beneath the dingy bar lights, mocking him.

 _…you have got to be kidding me._

There was a specific sequence of words Kakuzu never thought he'd string together during the span of his unnaturally long life, but it was this sequence now letting loose from his mouth, intent and deliberate.

"Tell me about your religion."

The young woman noticed his gaze on her hip and she brightened up all at once. "You recognize my rosary?"

Familiar pangs of aggravation struck Kakuzu's spine like hammer against bone.

"Unfortunately," he growled. "I understand there's a bible?"

"A series of them, actually. They're called the Volumes."

No longer nervous, the young woman was vibrating in her seat, eyes widened in excitement with the untold story bursting from her seams.

(She was waiting for permission to continue.)

With no shortage of secondhand embarrassment, Kakuzu quickly realized—as the young woman swung her legs while sitting in a stool too high for her—that her engagement with Hidan's cult wasn't just a cover, after all.

"…go on."

She pressed the flats of her hands together and touched her gloved fingertips to her chin.

"One thing that's important to keep in mind," she said, "is that the Volumes are highly culturally contextual pieces. They were written during a time when a religion honoring death and successful murder made sense. The original writings are fascinating, but they're really, really old, so they can be difficult to read sometimes."

"I'm sure whatever nonsense contained within those scripts wouldn't be difficult to decipher."

She quirked her head. "Do you read many archaic texts, sir?"

"...it's a hobby of mine."

"Neat!"

 _Neat_.

"Jashinism is one of the world's oldest religions, you know," she continued. "It can be traced back to before the establishment of villages, when clan loyalties and alliances were all that kept people together. Jashinism was founded to unite those who fought under god. Barbaric times called for a barbaric deity, so destruction was the cornerstone of the religion, and death was considered the only thing worth living for. Honestly, though, I can't say the rise of villages changed much."

"How so?"

"H—how so?" She looked anxious again, as she scratched her cheek with an index finger. "No one's asked me that before…well, I mean. Konoha…that is to say, most villages…I could be reprimanded for speaking so candidly."

Kakuzu's eyes narrowed. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

She looked at the mark across his hitai-ate that branded him a runaway, and laughed again, nervously.

"Konoha…" she began, cautious with her words, "is one village in a group of many who think themselves morally superior to the rest of the world. As a Shinobi who is a part of this society, my job is fighting to defend that ideal."

Her hands no longer in thoughtful prayer, she grasped her cup of water once more, swirling the contents inside.

"It's easier when my targets are actually bad people—murderers, rapists, war criminals. But it's the people in the way who get to me. These Shinobi, they went to school and received training, like I did. They're on a mission, like I am. They're all heroes of their own stories, fighting for what they believe in, representing the village that supports them. The last thing they feel before I kill them is regret for not being able to stop the villain. I'm no better than the people I kill. The only thing that separates us is the symbol on our headbands, and the government who pays us."

"All villages are the same," Kakuzu replied. "Obsessed with status, reputation, and power—raising generation after generation of child soldiers to fight the political wars of their ancestors. Villages are pointless to follow. History is written by the winners, child. Don't forget that."

"But it won't always be like this, will it? I mean, we evolved from the Warring Period to the societies we have today, still run by politically-mandated militarization and violence. Jashin-sama's destructive influence is still in everything we do, but people refuse to acknowledge Him. When we evolve to a point where Jashin-sama is no longer needed, we'll evolve to a point where Shinobi aren't, either."

"As society grows civilized, you grow irrelevant."

"Exactly. And, a-a hundred years from now, when war is less prevalent and Shinobi become unnecessary, will I still be looked back upon with the honour I carry now? Or will I be seen as some…ancient, primitive thing, performing barbaric acts in a barbaric time?"

"And you hoped your deity would answer for you?"

"I—I'm sorry, sir," she said quickly, "I've never talked about this before, I don't know where this is coming from."

He watched her push her hair back, again.

Her fingers drumming against porcelain.

Her awkward little shifts.

"I…can't do anything to change the world as it stands. I wanted more validation for my actions than just taking my village's word on the state of its own morality."

"I don't deal in morals, the market is too volatile. Morality is largely a matter of dates—what is righteous in this era can be condemned in the next. Do you know what has permanence?"

She shook her head.

"Money," he said, pointedly. "Money, and people's desire for it, will never change. Greed is a cultural constant."

"Are you an accountant, sir?"

 _An accountant._

"…something like that."

They shared another moment of silence.

The young woman reached into the pouch tied behind her and pulled out a small, tattered leather book. A Jashinist symbol graced the cover. She offered it to him.

Standing up, Kakuzu tossed a few coins on the counter, paying for his untouched drink. "Not interested."

"Don't worry, I have no intention of soliciting you," she laughed. "You said archaic texts were a hobby of yours, right? This is a pocketbook carried by some of the first followers of Jashin-sama. I stole it from a museum a few years ago."

"What do I care?"

"It's written in _man'yōgana_ , which is _ancient_ and an absolute pain in the neck to read. I think you'd appreciate it more than me, be it for its literary or monetary value. Religion can be quite profitable, you know." She put a gloved finger to her lips. "But if you run into my priest, you didn't get it from me."

 _Her priest._

He took her offering between his fingers before walking away.

"It was nice talking with you, sir," she called over her shoulder.

"Likewise," he mumbled, pocketing the book.

He'd seen her kind before.

She was a religious affiliate who leaked information in a misguided sense of rebellion against a system she couldn't otherwise escape from. As long what she revealed remained relevant, she posed no real threat. He'd consider disposing of her once she'd served the extent of her usefulness—after a long enough period of time, it could even be profitable.

Eventually, she would defect from her village, and if Konoha's special forces didn't catch her, a bounty would be placed on her head by an organization run covertly by the village itself, posted underground and secretive with all the other defected Shinobi they were ashamed of. His bingo book was half-filled with people like her, radical thinkers without the strength to maintain their independence, doing little more in their own time than prolonging their own suicides. She was an investment, and he'd let her stew in her own philosophies until she was ripe for the picking.

Kakuzu left the bar, the last echoes of Hidan's sacrifice's laughter fading in the background.

His poor teammate would be heartbroken.


End file.
